


(I Long to Be) Close to You

by StrawberryRain



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, IshiHime Week, angsty Ishihime, eventual fluffy happy ending, fluffy fluff fluff but i like to think i wrote some semblance of a plot huehue, spilled ink, title is from the love song (yes)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 23:37:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryRain/pseuds/StrawberryRain
Summary: It takes him far too long to realise that he never let her in.





	(I Long to Be) Close to You

**Author's Note:**

> My longest piece for ish week! You could say - I really spilled the ink on this one ;)

It takes him far too long to realise that he never let her in.

It’s true, utterly true that she was never in love with him and completely in love with Kurosaki; really, she’s free to love who she wants to - he would never begrudge her that and  _really_ , that’s  _completely beside the point_ —

The point is that she was never in love with him, and he always was.

“Ishida-kun,” she would say, in a voice that made him want to do uncharacteristically sappy things, “Ishida-kun, do you think Kurosaki-kun will like this dress?” as she twirled around in a flowery frock, looking all too innocently sweet. Like a warm summer day, with her hair falling around her bare shoulders in the softest waves he’s ever seen.

_Will Kurosaki like this dress? Who knows?_

All he knew then was that he liked it very much, and he liked the way her voice hitched, too, as she took in herself in the mirror. “It’s very pretty, Inoue-san,” he would answer, and mean it.

She would smile then, bright and open, and he would close in upon himself even more, despite the overwhelming urge to smile back. It was always easier to feign indifference. To be indifferent, after all, is to be in control…

He’s thankful he wore his glasses regularly: they always helped him conceal himself when his eyes threatened to give away too much.

* * *

It’s been a couple years since, and Uryuu grimaces at his own attempts to hide his feelings for her - he went entirely too far, he understands that now - always aloof. Always pretending to be hard-to-get, when in fact he was only protecting his own vanity.

The truth tastes  _really_  bitter when it comes in the form of a self-realisation right in front of her; he’d rather not face up to the facts,  _thank you very much_ , but it’s impossible when Orihime’s smiling awkwardly at him. He really should’ve kept in touch.

“What a coincidence, running into you at the book club!” she exclaims, tentatively offering him her hand. “I didn’t even know you were here, Ishida-kun!”

“I— yes, I just moved back a week ago from Tokyo… how have you been, Inoue-san?”

“Dying for a coffee,” she answers, and he takes the hint.

He finds that she’s single, and working as a librarian. She tells him all about the book collection, and the irrational rains Karakura’s been having this year, and how many children bake cookies with her to distribute at the old-age home, and the new sewing designs she’s learned—

Most of all, he finds that she enjoys reading letters, but oh,  _no one_ bothers to write them anymore, and all her suitors send her the same old texts and unsolicited pictures…

“So, what’ve  _you_  been up to?” she asks, and he asks himself the same question.

_What has he been up to?_

* * *

They keep in touch this time, meeting up casually every week or so, and the initial embarrassment gives way to a comfortable camaraderie that Uryuu thinks he’s supposed to be satisfied with at the moment, but he really isn’t and he’s braver now. Brave enough to be honest with her now, or at least, more honest than he’s been before.

So he tells her of his type of girl and how many chocolates he eats when he’s sad and how much he likes reading Shakespeare. He takes her to his favourite restaurant and rents his favourite comedy movie with her; he drunkenly sings her the song from the kiddie show he watches for fun and tells her the only three stories he can remember of his mother.

Orihime smiles at him, as brightly and openly as before, but now her fingers twine with his, and he caves into her touch with relish. Slowly, their caresses come oftener, lingering and more meaningful.

_Why didn’t he do this before?_

One day, they run into Kurosaki and Kuchiki while together and he remembers why. Orihime chatters to them, and Uryuu participates slowly, feeling a pang of worry as Kuchiki throws her bedroom eyes at her boyfriend right in front of them. They’ve always been so obvious, he grimaces slightly uncomfortably, looking at his companion from the corner of his eyes. She seems to be taking it rather well.

That night, sitting in his apartment with sake and junk food, she comes clean on the matter of Kurosaki, explaining in great detail how she got over him, and Uryuu can hardly remember his erstwhile defensive dishonesty. He can no longer pretend when she looks so vulnerable, but  _content_ , in her acceptance of defeat.

This might just turn out to be a different kind of victory for her, she tells him, and he promises himself that he will be even braver.

* * *

He has to leave town for a week, which is not a lot, but to both of them it seems unbearable. He does not quite kiss her goodbye; they are not in that space,  _not yet_. He holds her a little longer than usual and promises to write.

And write he does: seven letters for seven days reach her like clockwork. The first letter is shaky, unsure even; there are ink blots in at least three sentences that make them almost unreadable. This is so out-of-character that Orihime feels compelled to understand that Ishida-kun is writing under some strong emotion.

That strong emotion becomes clearer and surer over the next three letters; by day five Orihime is reading soft but  _firm_  admissions of care. He’s determined to express like he never has before - it’s far easier to let spilled ink describe his emotions than to let them spill out face-to-face - even after all this time…

Uryuu feels half-proud.

He redeems himself fully in the last two letters - they are absolutely delightful. She has never seen him open up so completely as he does in those last two pieces of artistic passion.

Yet he does not quite admit to loving her.

Not until he returns and comes straight to her door from the airport, bags and all; a bouquet of flowers in one hand and his heart in his mouth.

And then she kisses him when he admits, “I thought I could be brave, but it turns out I could only be this honest behind pen and paper,” as if she needs an explanation, because she really,  _really_ doesn’t, not when he’s letting her in so fully; and she kisses him again when he breathes, “I’m sorry for never letting you in.”

After all, she understands what it’s like to be unrequitedly in love.

_It’s okay, it’s alright._

_…_

It takes him far too long to realise that he never let her in.

It’s true, utterly true that she was never in love with him and completely in love with Kurosaki; really, she’s free to love who she wants to - he would never begrudge her that and  _really_ , that’s  _completely beside the point_ —

The point is that she was never in love with him, and he always was, and now  _she’s in love with him too_  and all is right with the world and  _really, he’s missing the point again because she loves him—_

_Fin._


End file.
